


Reckless Behavior

by DizzyRedhead



Series: Closer [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Grindr AU, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Pre-Canon, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: Will installs Grindr when he visits Samwell for a tour. Just to see. He might not even use it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dexsnursey (nerdy_farm_girl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/gifts).



> This is for dexsnursey, who asked for "get together things", and then my brain said "but what if" and this ballooned into a 3-part series? Because, you see, they don't definitively get together in this fic, and they needed a happy ending. So, um, Beth, I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it anyway? 
> 
> Enormous thanks to raspberrycordial and ahausonfire who are horrible enablers and should absolutely be stopped, but are also two of the best beta and cheer-readers a girl could ask for.
> 
> Title from "Pillowtalk" by Zayn

Will waits to install Grindr until he’s on the bus out of Portland. He’s pretty sure no one could get into his phone, and pretty sure no one could find it even if they did. But when he stacks up “pretty sure” against the look he imagines on his mom’s face, everything he’s heard come out of his brother’s mouth, everything that’s been said in the locker rooms and on the ice...well…

The bus has wifi, anyway. It’s fine.

He’s heard about Samwell. Everyone has. No one argued with Will looking at their hockey program, not with Jack Zimmermann as the team captain. No one has to know that he’s interested for other reasons, that every time he opens the Samwell website there’s “1 in 4, maybe more” running on a loop in his head. Maybe he won’t do anything with Grindr, maybe the app will stay unopened and he’ll delete it on the bus ride back. But if there’s any place where Will might have a chance to explore a different side of himself, he thinks Samwell might be that place.

* * *

He’s safely tucked into the extra dorm room where they put him up for the night, nothing on the schedule until the tour starts tomorrow. Will settles back on the uncomfortable twin mattress and unlocks his phone, his thumb hovering over the Grindr mask icon for a long moment before he presses it.

He’d filled out his profile on the bus, even sneaking a picture in the tiny bathroom for his profile. He felt really dumb, flexing and posing, but his chest and abs look good, and it’s not like he’s ever going to put his face on this app. 

Will stares at the tiled display for a minute, kind of incredulous at just how many guys there are on this app. “1 in 4, my ass,” he mutters. He scrolls, and scrolls again, picture after picture. Some guys do put their face on, he sees, but there are enough shirtless torso pictures that his probably doesn’t make him look like a complete newbie.

Before he can work up the nerve to do anything more than scroll, the little chat bubble on the toolbar turns into a 1. It takes a minute of staring at it for Will to realize that someone sent him a message. He taps the icon with shaking fingers and looks in disbelief at the message.

_ hey, ur hot, _ it says.  _ wanna meet up? _

The words don’t change, no matter how long Will stares at them. They stay on the screen, solid and black and real against the blue chat bubble. He manages to figure out how to navigate from the chat window to the guy’s profile and nearly drops his phone.  _ This guy _ , with his warm brown skin and his gray-green eyes and his tattoo and his full lips thinks  _ Will  _ is hot? It has to be some kind of prank.

The phone vibrates in his hand; he has two more messages. 

_ we can meet on campus if ur close to samwell. _ _  
_ _ i have a dorm room. _

Hot Guy must be a Samwell student, then. Will hesitates for a long minute. There are so many reasons why this is a Bad Idea. Is he really going to traipse around campus to meet a complete stranger to hook up? What if it’s terrible? Or, possibly worse, what if it’s amazing? No matter what they say about Samwell, is this the kind of thing a hockey player could actually do? What if he does come to Samwell and he keeps running into Hot Guy? It could be incredibly awkward. 

His phone vibrates again. He unlocks it by rote.

The new message just says:  _ i wanna lick ur abs like ice cream and then keep going. _

Will can practically feel the blood draining away from his brain. He checks to make sure he has the dorm room key in his pocket, takes a deep breath, and messages back before he can change his mind.

_ wheres ur room? _

* * *

Derek regrets the cheesy message as soon as he sends it, but it’s too late now. He’s just high enough to take the edge off his anxiety, but apparently it’s also enough for truly terrible similes to slip past his filter. 

His phone pings discreetly and his smile widens as he reads the message. Apparently the freckled guy with the ridiculous abs isn’t as discerning when it comes to comparative language as Derek is. That’s fine. Getting off will help his anxiety, too, probably more than weed at this point.

He taps out directions to his temporary dorm room and busies himself digging lube and condoms out of his bag and stashing them in the desk drawer next to the bed. No point in freaking out Freckles if he’s not up for anything too intense, but Derek wants to be prepared. Maybe he should’ve been a Boy Scout, but they probably would’ve kicked his ass out once he realized he liked boys.

A knock on the door breaks Derek out of his reverie. He opens the door and pulls the other boy inside, closing it quickly behind him before he gets a chance to take a good look. The Grindr pic had shown a lean, muscular build, but hadn’t given much indication of size, so Derek is pleasantly surprised to find that Freckles might be`just slightly taller than he is. 

“Hi,” Freckles says hesitantly, his Adam’s apple jumping over the collar of his blue plaid as he swallows.

Derek can’t help but smile at him. “Hi. I’m Derek,” he says, and yeah, he might be pitching his voice a little lower than usual, but the guy looks nervous. He’s just trying to help.

Freckles flushes, his cheeks and the tip of his ears going pink. Derek really  _ does _ want to lick him like ice cream. “I’m, uh, Will.”

“Ever done this before, Will?” Derek asks, stepping into Will’s personal space until the other boy is backed up against the door.

Will shakes his head, the blush spreading down his neck, under the collar of his flannel. “Is it that obvious?”

Derek backs off a little. No point in freaking the guy out. The last thing he wants is for Will to leave. “Nah, it’s chill. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Will raises his eyebrows, his eyes going cold. “If you don’t want to now that you’ve seen me, you could just say so. I’ll leave.”

“No!” Derek blurts out, completely losing his chill for some reason. Maybe it’s the anxiety simmering just under the surface. Maybe it’s the thinly-veiled hurt he saw on Will’s face before the cold mask came down. Maybe it’s the fact that he really does want to come tonight, and it’s usually better with someone else. 

Whatever it is, he pulls himself together and crowds back into Will, leaning in until his lips are almost brushing the other boy’s ear. “I still want to lick your abs,” he murmurs, letting his tongue flick out against Will’s earlobe just once. “But now I wanna lick other things, too. Can I?”

Will stays stiff and unresponsive for a long, long moment, giving Derek just long enough to think that maybe he fucked this up before it even started. “Okay,” he says finally, pulling back a little to look Derek in the eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Derek replies, doing his best to project chill and not start up a celly right here and now. He gets why some dudes don’t want to kiss their Grindr hookups, but kissing is seriously like his favorite thing. Everyone kisses differently, just like everyone’s different in bed, but kissing is just the best, lips and teeth and tongues and all the ways they can be put together.

Will slides a hand around the back of Derek’s neck, short-circuiting his whirling thoughts, and pulls him in until their lips meet. It’s soft, exploratory, but not tentative. Will might not have done the casual hookup thing before, but he’s clearly no stranger to kissing, coaxing Derek’s lips apart, teasing him with little touches of tongue until Derek digs his hands into Will’s surprisingly soft hair and deepens the kiss.

They don’t break apart until they’re both gasping for air. Will looks debauched already, his pupils wide and dark with just a thin ring of gold around the edge, his hair rumpled from Derek’s hands, his lips red from kissing. Derek would feel more satisfied about it if he wasn’t pretty sure he looked the exact same way.

“Not that this isn’t fun,” he says, and oh, it’s a thrill to see the way Will’s gaze zeroes in on his mouth, “but we might be a little more comfortable on the bed. Whaddya say?”

Will swallows hard. “Yeah, okay.”

Derek steps back and turns toward the bed, only to trip over his own feet. He can see the edge of the bed coming toward his face, is trying desperately to curl himself up and avoid it, because nothing is less sexy than a head wound. He’s almost resigned himself to his fate when two big hands catch him around the waist and haul him upright, back against a hard, muscular body. 

“Hey,” Will says in Derek’s ear. “Careful. I’d rather not have to drive you to the ER tonight.”

“That would put a damper on things,” Derek agrees. He’s breathless, and he’s not sure if it’s from the near miss or from the effortless ease with which Will caught him. He turns enough to see Will’s face and flutters his eyelashes. “Maybe you should carry me to the bed.”

Will rolls his eyes and walks him backwards, his hands still on Derek’s waist, thumbs just barely brushing under the hem of Derek’s t-shirt to find skin. “You talk a lot.”

“I do,” Derek agrees cheerfully. The backs of his knees hit the bed and he lets himself fall back, sprawling across the crappy mattress and pulling Will down with him. “Wanna shut me up? Cause I can keep gommmf--”

Will cuts him off with a kiss, shifting up further onto the bed when they start to slide off. Derek can’t help moaning into it, just a little, because it’s so good. Will’s warm and solid on top of him, all that muscled weight pressing him into the mattress, grounding him in a way he didn’t realize he needed. He could spend the rest of the night like this, he thinks hazily, just kissing Will.

All too soon, though, Will breaks the kiss, pulling back just a little. “So, um, I don’t know what you were wanting--”

“You,” Derek interrupts, because words are about the only place where he’s smooth, so he might as well take advantage of that. 

Will rolls his eyes. “I mean, specifically.”

Derek shrugs. “It’s chill, man. We can do whatever; I’m good with it. What do you want?”

“I--” Will opens his mouth, then closes it again, visibly thinking. “Can I blow you?”

Derek blinks. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but that wasn’t it. “Sure, if you want.”

“I might not be any good at it,” Will says, his face flushed and his jaw set.

“Hey.” Derek runs a comforting hand up Will’s arm, a little amazed by the contrast between soft flannel and the hard muscles underneath. “As long as you promise not to bite my dick off, I can pretty much guarantee I’ll enjoy it.”

“Okay,” Will says. He takes a breath and sits back, reaching up for the buttons on his shirt.

Derek sits up, batting the other boy’s hands away. “Can I?”

Will shrugs, letting his hands fall down to curl in the hem of Derek’s shirt. “Knock yourself out.”

Derek does his best to focus on undoing buttons, but he keeps getting distracted by Will’s fingers dipping under his t-shirt, warm and calloused against his skin. He finally manages to unbutton the shirt, pushing it off Will’s shoulders, but that means Will isn’t touching him for a little bit. Derek can’t help pouting, but then Will’s hands are back, pushing Derek’s t-shirt up his sides and pulling it over his head. Derek returns the favor with Will’s undershirt, and then he just has to stop and look.

“You don’t have to stare,” Will says softly, not meeting Derek’s eyes. “I know I’m not--”

“I swear I’m going to hunt down everyone who ever told you that you weren’t attractive and do horrible things to them until they’re sorry,” Derek says absently, reaching out and wrapping his hand lightly around the base of Will’s neck. He can feel the heat of the blush under his fingers, and he watches, fascinated, as it spreads further down Will’s chest, the pink obscuring the scattering of freckles. “Your pictures didn’t do you justice, Will.”

Will opens his mouth like he wants to protest, but Derek gives him a stern look and he seems to think better of it, leaning in to kiss Derek again instead. 

Kissing Will was amazing when they were both fully clothed. With their shirts off, it’s fucking incredible. Will wraps an arm around Derek’s waist, pulling him in until there’s no space left between them, just skin on skin, hot and already a little slick with sweat. Will kisses like he’s starving for it, like this might be the last kiss he ever gets. His hand slides down to curve over Derek’s ass, dragging him that last tiny bit closer and Derek groans into his mouth when Will’s erection presses against his cock.

“Fuck,” Will pants, tearing his mouth away and panting into Derek’s neck. “Fuck, Derek, you’re so--” he cuts off with a groan as Derek rolls his hips, grinding up against him.

“You were saying?” Derek prompts, lifting his eyebrows. He yelps when Will lets go of him and shoves, toppling him back down onto the bed.

Will attacks Derek’s jeans with single-minded efficiency, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down quickly but carefully. “I was saying,” he said, exaggeratedly patient, “that if we come in our pants, I don’t get to blow you. Asshole.”

He tugs at the waistband of Derek’s jeans, pulling them down his legs and dropping them off the side of the bed. Derek doesn’t chirp him when he hesitates, because he might be high, but he’s not stupid, and this is clearly Will’s first time giving a blow job. The longer he waits, though, the more the silence stretches, and Derek’s never liked to leave silence when he could fill it with words.

“You look like a fucking Greek statue,” he says. “That was the first thing I noticed when I saw your picture. And then I saw your freckles. Attraction’s a funny thing, you know? Sometimes you see somebody and you’re like, okay very nice, attractive person. And sometimes you see somebody and your brain just goes ‘yes, that one, I want to lick his freckles.’”

Will gives him an inscrutable look. “Seriously?”

Derek shrugs lazily. “Hey, the dick wants what it wants.”

Will shakes his head, but he’s smiling as he leans down. He’s got enough forethought to wrap his hand around the base of Derek’s cock, and even that is embarrassingly good. His hand is big and warm and just a little rough; Derek’s always had a little bit of a thing for guys who work with their hands.

Then Will’s tongue flicks over the head and Derek gives up on coherent thought. Will licks him like a kid with an ice cream cone before settling in between his legs and sucking him down. 

“Fuck,” Derek groans, fisting his hands in the scratchy dorm sheets. “Will, fuck, that’s so good--”

Will hums softly and Derek has to stop talking and breathe deeply. Will isn’t taking him very deep, but his hand is so big that his mouth meets it on every downstroke. Derek looks down, gets the full effect of Will, pink lips stretched around the darker skin of Derek’s cock, red-gold lashes resting on his cheekbones. It’s so hot Derek can’t quite believe he doesn’t come on the spot.

“God, Will, you look so fucking good like that,” he breathes, the words falling out of his mouth without conscious thought. “I’m gonna jerk off to this for months, pretend it’s your hand--fuck, shit, do that again--”

Will’s mouth tightens around him, hot and wet and the perfect amount of suction, his hand and his mouth moving together. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” Derek warns. 

Will hesitates for a moment and then sits back up, his hand still moving. “Tell me how to get you there,” he says, his voice just a little rougher than before.

Derek wraps a hand over Will’s. “Tighter,” he says, his eyes fluttering closed, his hips jerking up off the bed to fuck his cock into the circle of their hands. “Yeah, that’s perfect, Will, you’re perfect, fuck, just like that,  _ fuuccckkkk--” _

When Derek becomes aware of his body again, he has to force his fingers to loosen from where they’re still clamped around Will’s. “Sorry,” he says, blinking his eyes open.

“Don’t apologize,” Will says, his eyes dark and intent on Derek. “That was really fucking hot.””

He lifts his hand and licks Derek’s cum off his fingers and even though he just came, Derek’s pretty sure he’s going to die on the spot. “Jesus Christ,” he wheezes. 

Will flushes again, shifting a little, and Derek suddenly realizes that Will’s still hard, his cock straining against his jeans. 

Derek levers himself up, surging into Will’s space and kissing him. Will kisses back roughly, almost desperately, whimpering a little when Derek breaks the kiss to lick his way down Will’s neck.

“These freckles make me crazy,” he murmurs, licking a path from one to another. Will shivers as Derek’s breath gusts over his damp skin. 

“You weren’t kidding about the licking,” Will jokes, his voice a little strained. His hands land on Derek’s arms, wrapping around his biceps. Not to restrain, more like Will just needed something, someone to hold onto.

“Not even a little bit,” Derek agrees, his hands sliding down to unbutton Will’s jeans as he licks along Will’s collarbones. “This okay?”

Will’s head falls back a little, his breath coming faster. “Y-yeah. You could. Bite, or whatever. If you wanted to. As long as it’d be under my shirt.”

Derek scrapes his teeth lightly over Will’s skin. “Like that?”

“Fuck.” The word sounds like it was punched out of Will’s lungs. “Harder. Want you to leave a mark.”

It won’t take much; the skin where Derek’s teeth had been is already turning a delicate pink. But the chance to leave his mark on Will, even if they never see each other again, is too tempting to resist. Derek picks his spot, low enough on Will’s shoulder that his shirts will cover it, and closes his mouth over it, pulling Will’s zipper down as he starts to suck.

Will’s cock springs free, brushing against Derek’s hand. “Fuck,” Will groans. “Derek, please--I’m so close--”

Derek wraps his hand around Will’s cock and lifts his head to inspect his handiwork. The mark is a little bigger and darker than he’d planned, the dark purple-red standing starkly against Will’s pale skin. “Tell me what you want,” he says, doing his best to ignore the fact that his own cock is attempting to take a renewed interest in proceedings.

“Fast,” Will breathes, his face flushed. “A little looser--yeah, fuck--want you to mark me again. Please?”

“Whatever you want,” Derek promises, leaning in to fasten his mouth on Will’s other shoulder. It’s tricky, dividing his focus like this, and he’s afraid for a moment that he’s gone too far when he sinks his teeth into Will’s skin just a little bit. But then Will’s fingers clamp down on his arms and wet heat spills over Derek’s hands as Will comes.

Derek works him through it until Will is gasping “too much, stop” and he has to let go. Will is still holding onto him though, not moving away like some guys do, and Derek lets himself enjoy it while it lasts. 

All too soon, though, Will is using the tissues on the desk to clean up, pulling his clothes back on, doing all the awkward after-hookup things that always kill the vibe. Derek can’t help watching him; Will looks like he should be gangly and awkward, but get him naked and he’s all lean, mouthwatering muscle. 

“We should do this again sometime,” Derek says before he thinks better of it. “I mean, if you want.”

Will’s fingers pause for a minute before he finishes buttoning his flannel. “Yeah, maybe.”

Derek sighs a little. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but not a no, either. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“See you,” Will agrees, his mouth twisting into a little smile as he slips out the door.

Staying in the bed is really tempting, but Derek forces himself to go down the hall to the bathroom and brush his teeth before he collapses back into it. It stil smells like sex and Will’s cologne; he muffles a groan in the pillow. 

It takes Derek a long time to fall asleep that night, and his dreams are filled with red hair and freckles, big, strong hands and a rough voice saying his name.

* * *

Will can’t help smiling to himself as he follows the campus map toward Faber Memorial Rink. The matching bruises on his traps are securely hidden away under his t-shirt and flannel, like a secret only he knows. Well, and Derek, but--

He can practically hear the needle scratch in his head as he gets close enough to the group waiting outside the rink to distinguish faces. There are a lot of guys, different heights, sizes, and races, but Will’s eye is inevitably drawn to the figure lounging against the wall, in a white undershirt and a fucking cardigan, for fuck’s sake, and a green snapback. 

Of course. Of fucking course his very first Grindr hookup is also a prospective member of the hockey team. Will is pretty sure he doesn’t believe in a vengeful god, but it’s times like these that he really wonders.

Derek looks for a minute like he might be about to say something to Will, so he attaches himself to the hyper Asian kid with the braces and the Sharks hoodie (“Chris Chow! I’m a goalie! Are you excited? I’m so super stoked!”), on the theory that no one else is going to get a word in edgewise. 

He tells himself he’s imagining the disappointed look in Derek’s eyes, because it’s only there for a second and then it’s gone, like it never happened. 

Clearly there’s no way Will can go to Samwell now. No matter how accepting the campus might be, he  _ knows _ hockey teams. He’ll say something, or Derek will say something, and they might not get kicked off the team but there are a million ways their lives can be miserable enough that they decide to quit.

When the guy with the man-bun (Shitty? Really? Even for a hockey nickname, that’s ridiculous) says that the small, adorable blond guy is on the team, it’s like a check. The world tilts for a minute before it rights itself, but nothing is the same. 

If someone like Bitty can be on the team, if he’s confident enough to be so openly, honestly himself… maybe Will can, too.

* * *

On the bus ride home, Will looks at the Grindr icon for a long time, his thumb hovering over the “Uninstall” button.

When the screen goes black, he double-checks that his passcode is turned on and then tucks it into his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> Fear not, for this is not the end! For the next part, featuring these two idiots and the trouble they get into at Samwell, check out the next part! And if you like fic, headcanons, pictures of hot hockey players and/or actors, and a general melange of cross-fandom things, you can [follow me on Tumblr](dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com)


End file.
